


The one where Emma gets sick and Killian takes care of her

by hannahhoppers



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, One Shot, care, jesus this is crap, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahhoppers/pseuds/hannahhoppers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt "Please, don't leave."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Emma gets sick and Killian takes care of her

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the show or the characters, so I'm playing with them. Adam and Eddy have such nice toys. Unbeta'd. Kudos and comments if you enjoy!

As he strapped on his brace and twisted his hook in, he heard a sniffle from the bed. He paused. 

 

“Please, don’t leave,” her voice whispered, a tinge of sadness tainting the sound he loved so much.

 

“What is it, Swan?” He sat near her feet on the edge of the bed.

 

“It’s silly,” she responded, shaking her head. “I’m being ridiculous. You’ll be late.” He shook his head and reached for her hand. 

 

“I’m sure your father won’t mind,” he smiled, rubbing his thumb against her knuckles. “Now tell me, what’s troubling you, love?”

 

“I’m not feeling well.” He laid a hand across her forehead.

 

“Emma, you’re burning up.” Pressing a kiss to her warm forehead, he stood. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to grab a few things.” She nodded, eyes closed, and he untwined their fingers. 

 

He walked briskly to the kitchen. As he filled a glass with ice water, he pulled out his phone. 

 

“Listen, mate, I’m not going to be able to come out today.”

 

“Why, what’s up?”

 

“Emma’s sick. I don’t want to leave her here by herself.”

 

“Alright. Call if she gets worse.”

 

“Okay. Oh, and Dave?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don’t mention this to Mary Margaret.” With a laugh, his friend agreed.

 

“Bye, Hook.”

 

“Goodbye.” Placing the device on the counter, he set about making a tray for his beloved. The ice water, a small dish of crackers, a bowl of chicken soup. As he carried it up the stairs, carefully to prevent the soup from sloshing around and making a mess, he thought to find her some painkillers. Setting the heavily loaded piece of metal on a ledge, he turned into the guest bathroom. Not knowing how much she’d need, he took the entire box from the cabinet and added it to the collection. 

 

He pushed the door open with his hip and carried the platter over to the nightstand. Emma wasn’t in the bed.

 

“Emma?”

 

“In here,” she responded thinly. The simple words were followed by a retching sound. He nudged the door open a bit. Emma was hung over the toilet bowl, legs tucked under her on the dark green rug, emptying the contents of her stomach into the porcelain. He was by her side in an instant, his hook sweeping up her hair and his hand rubbing big, open circles on her back. He let the metal appendage press against her neck, hoping the coolness of it would ease her fevered skin. 

 

“Better out than in, love.” As she leaned back against him, he dropped her hair. “Wait here.” He stood up and pulled a washcloth off of the towel bar before running it under the cool water from the sink. He kneeled on the ground beside his fiancée and pressed the cloth to the back of her neck. She shivered. He almost pulled away, but she murmured,

 

“Don’t stop, that feels nice.”

 

“Let’s get you back into bed, darling.” He helped her to her feet and guided the tired woman to their bed. “Covers on or off, love?”

 

“Off for now. I feel like I’m melting.” He nodded and, sliding off his boots, slipped onto the sheets beside her. He handed her the washcloth again, watching as she lay it over her face. After some time, she pulled it back off. “C’mere,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “I’m cold again. You can be my space heater.”

 

He smiled and did as she asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling the blankets up around them. She rested her head against his shoulder. 

 

“You seemed a bit upset earlier, love. What’s wrong?”

 

“I’m sick.”

 

“No, besides that. Something was troubling you.”

 

“Just a bad dream.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Not really.” He nodded. She heaved a sigh. “I’ve had it before.”

 

“The nightmare?”

 

“Yeah. Every time I’ve lost you, just playing over and over again. Any time I’ve lost anybody, really, but instead of them, it’s you. When Henry almost died, when we thought Regina had killed my mom…” She shuddered.

 

“Look at me, Swan.” He waited until her eyes were fixed on his. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially not after everything that’s happened.” Brushing a thumb against her face, he waited for a response. When he didn’t receive one, he added, “I’m a survivor.”

 

“Hook, less than a year ago, you _died_. You _actually_ died.”

 

“And now I’m alive again. See, love? I survived _dying_.” She smiled. “Ah, there it is.”

 

“Can you stay here with me?”

 

“Always, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> This note made 11/23/16-- I'm so, deeply, terribly sorry. This was awful. I hope my writing has improved since I wrote this, because it caused me physical pain to read this. I'm really sorry. <3 :)


End file.
